Blacker than Black
by Aurora Snidget
Summary: Sirius Blacks son grows up unwanted and barely loved by his mother who is still reeling from the shock of Sirius turning out to be a madman. He experiences Professor Remus Lupins reaction to him at Hogwarts, and later Harry Potters. Life sucks.
1. Prologue

Title: Blacker than Black  
  
Rating: PG-13 - will go up due to suicide themes.  
  
Genre: Angst, Angst, some romance  
  
Pairings: Sirius/OC  
  
Disclaimer: Don't sue me, I'm in overdraft so it won't work.

Caution: This fic is dark and only gets darker - for a long time. It is the first dark fic I have written because I have become quite good at writing humor over the years (check out my completed 'Escape from Voldemort' suitable for young children), so naturally I wanted to take on a more challenging project in terms of my writing skill. Please note that I have certainly not abandoned 'Harry Potter and the Lethifold Armchair' (another mainly humorous plot), I have just had a major story idea that I couldn't put down. This story is likely to be quite short. 

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Blacker than Black

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(a dark angsty fic - reader beware!)

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Prologue

A chip off the old block. That's what everybody secretly thought when they met Christopher Black. Some not so secretly - unfortunately. That's why Christopher Black threw himself off the top of the Astronomy tower.

Christopher Black you see, was the son of the notorious mass murderer Sirius Black. Not that Sirius Black knew then that he had a son; that much was kept from him. 

To fully understand Christopher Blacks behavior in his all too few short years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, we must first go back in time, starting in the early 1980's before Sirius Black was thrown into Azkaban prison.

In those days Sirius Black was dating one Emmeline Vance. Emmeline was a half-blood witch and everyone thought that she and Sirius made a cute couple. They were both good looking and their personalities balanced each others out entirely. Sirius contributed to the relationship by adding humor and a certain recklessness that made Emmeline far more easy-going than she would otherwise have been. Emmeline however, often added reason and patience, which served to keep Sirius from getting into serious trouble, and to help him learn from his mistakes. Shortly after the Potters wedding, Sirius proposed to Emmeline, and she was certain that she must be the happiest witch alive. Her future seemed set out in stone before her - she was marrying an intelligent, handsome and caring wizard who not only seemed to share the same ideals as her, but loved her dearly as well. What else could she hope for? She had already been living with him at the house he had brought using his Uncles inheritance after leaving school, and felt she knew him inside out.

That was until the night everything changed. 

They had just arrived home from their two-week honeymoon in Paris two days before. Emmeline Vance, although strong in personality, looked back on the days that followed as some of the darkest days in her life. It would be forever etched in her mind how she had sat down at the kitchen table that morning and picked up the Daily Prophet, thinking that Sirius must have decided to stay the night at the Potters again, as he sometimes did. She was tolerant of his close friendship with James because she knew how much Sirius needed his friends, as he had no family that understood him. It had therefore been a shock when she glanced at the main headline and discovered what her new husband had really been up to.

**You-Know-Who's right hand man Sirius Black kills twelve muggles and one wizard with a single curse!**

Underneath it was a picture of her husband cornered by ministry of magic officials and laughing maniacally at the destroyed street before him. 

After that day she was on her own. Her like-minded friends she had met through the Order of the Phoenix never called her again, but she would have felt too ashamed to have seen them anyway. Emmeline blamed herself for not seeing what Sirius really was, and withdrew from society - burying herself up to the eyeballs in her potions work to block out the memories. She owned a small potions shop in Diagon alley that her elderly father had helped finance after leaving school. Luckily, because she had never actually got as far as changing the sign 'Vances Potions' to 'Blacks Potions' above the shop door she had lost only little custom. Although still married, she now went under her maiden name again, hoping to hide forever from her past, and forget the man she had once loved and married. 

It was only a mere one month later that she received the second most unwanted shock of her young life. Emmeline discovered to her horror that she was expecting - and it was due to be born within two months and very much underweight. Worst of all, she was unable to apply to have an abortion spell cast on her by the healers at St Mungos, as it was strictly illegal (and punishable by time in Azkaban) to abort unborn magical children as they were considered much more valued than squibs. The test she performed confirmed the unborn child's magical ability. Never mind whose son the child was. Emmeline feared that she would never be able to love Sirius Blacks child, and considered putting it up for adoption in muggle London. She believed that there wasn't much of a chance that it would ever know it was magical if she did that, as Hogwarts was unlikely to accept a child of such dreadful parentage. 

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Please review, they give me the encouragement to write more if I see you like it.

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	2. A Difficult Beginning

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A/N: I hope you're all enjoying this so far. Please note that I made a slight mistake when I disclosed my pairings. I said Sirius/OC right? Well I meant to put Sirius/Emmeline. Emmeline was one of the members of the Order who came to pick Harry up from the Dursleys. She was hardly mentioned at all except for her being described as regal looking. So her personality is mine… 

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Thanks to both Padfootgrim and Lemon the Kitty for being the first two people to review.

Chapter One: A Difficult Beginning

Christopher Black lay alone and unwanted in his cradle in St Mungos. He had only been born one day ago, but he had yet to be held by his mother. He basked in the sun shining through the tiny window in the two-bed semi private ward knowing vaguely that something was not right. There was another cot beside his, belonging to a baby girl who had been born a mere two hours after he had, and she was currently being cuddled by her broadly smiling flaming red haired mother. On Christopher's right there was another single bed. Although he was too young to see properly, his mother currently occupied it. She lay with her back to him, curled tightly into a ball with her once regally kept hair, pushed back lank and unkempt over the pillow behind her. She shook with silent tears. 

The healers had _ohhed_ and _ahhed_ when he had been born, thinking that he was the sweetest baby they had seen in a long time. They did not know of his true last name - Emmeline had told them she did not know who the father was when she checked in, knowing full well she would not get away with this for long. This was because his name would be magically written down at the Ministry of Magic - and at Hogwarts if they accepted him. Healer Meredith had been startled to witness Emmeline turning away with a look of disgust on her face when offered her baby to hold, then had felt sad for the woman when she had mumbled something about the child looking like his father.

Christopher it seemed at first, had inherited all his looks from Sirius, and none from Emmeline. He already had a mop of black hair, and his nose and chin where clearly Sirius'. Emmeline didn't need to look twice at her son to know that she was going to have a very hard time loving him.

It was the red haired woman occupying the other bed who had finally convinced Emmeline not to give Christopher up for adoption. She had commented on what a pretty baby he was and repeatedly requested permission from Emmeline to hold him. Emmeline had just lain on the bed and ignored her and her request, wishing nothing more than to shut out the world and, as a bonus, die peacefully. Later in the week Healer Meredith had entered the room while this was once again being requested and finally told the red haired woman Molly, that it probably wouldn't matter if she did hold the child. 

Emmeline had lain on the bed listening to Molly singing to her son, and enticing happy baby noises out of him. Molly, now examining the baby closely (worried that he might have some terrible defect that was causing his mother reason to reject him) had been startled to find that when baby Christopher had opened his eyes to look at her, that they were a quite lovely violet colour. She quite naturally had continued her running commentary of how beautiful and well behaved he was, and then told Emmeline that his violet eyes where gorgeous. 

Sirius had brown eyes. 

To Mollys surprise, Emmeline turned over and sat up, reaching out for her son for the first time since he had been born.

Although only partially loved, Christophers violet eyes served to give his mother some small hope that he may not turn out to be quite as bad as his father had. Although reminded terribly of Sirius, and knowing that it would get only worse as Christopher grew up looking more and more like his father, her violet eyes he had inherited gave her hopes of a different life for her son. The proof in the eyes that he was not exactly the same as his father was enough cause to keep him, in her opinion.

Emmeline took her son home with her the next day – she was now living in the flat above 'Vances Potions', and deposited him alone in the once spare bedroom where she wouldn't have to look at him so much. Christopher certainly wasn't mistreated though. Emmeline wasn't a cruel woman, she provided him with a cot and warm blankets, and although she couldn't bring herself to breast feed, there was always a warm bottle for him at hand.

As Christopher grew older, Emmeline took him to a muggle primary school every day out in London. She knew that he already knew about the magical world so it was too late to keep that secret from him (she had decided earlier on that it would be simply too hard on her to keep up a façade of living a muggle lifestyle). Emmeline never mentioned the subject of Christophers father to him, and he grew up unaware of his fathers crimes, although she knew he was not always so unaware that his father had not been so nice – due sometimes to the passing comments he received from the customers. 

The summer before Christopher turned eleven, Emmeline took it upon herself to finally compose a letter to headmaster Dumbledore asking whether Christopher might possibly be considered for acceptance into the school. She had not corresponded with him since before Sirius' crimes, and despite being an ex-Gryffindor, this did little to make it less of a trial for her.

Emmeline found herself screwing up the parchment with 'Dear Professor Dumbledore' written on it, and instead starting a new one with 'To Professor Dumbledore'. She didn't think a 'Dear' would go down too well. She in fact didn't think even a letter would go down well for that matter, but she had to try. 

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To Professor Dumbledore,

I am writing to you about my son Christopher. I would like to know in advance if he has any chance of being accepted into Hogwarts, or whether I will have to find an alternative school for him. This is because I'm not sure if either of the two other schools that spring to mind would be exactly suitable for him. Beauxbatons, which would be my second choice to Hogwarts, is as you are aware, French speaking, and I'm certain the language barrier would hold him back in his studies. Durmstrang is well known for it's dark magic, and I would rather he wasn't encouraged to follow in his fathers footsteps. I will admit that I am ashamed to say that he has not been loved as much as most other children his age would have been, but I have tried my best. He is intelligent, well behaved and clearly shares my love of potions, in which I am sure he could do well.

Sincerely, Emmeline Vance.

Emmeline rolled up the parchment and attached it to the leg of her owl. It immediately took off before she could change her mind. She had been entirely honest with why she wanted Christopher to attend, but had evaded telling Dumbledore of her fears that Christopher was far more alike in personality to his father than to herself. 

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Please remember to review if you enjoyed this!

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	3. Pride and Prejudice

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A/N: We have reached the part of the story where Christopher's point of view is followed.. Thanks for the review Padfootgrim :) 

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Chapter Two: Pride and Prejudice

Christopher Black sat behind the counter weighing out poisonous red spider eggs for the strength potion he was making up for the order book in front of him. His mother had been teaching him the trade from an early age. Christopher remembered overhearing snatches of conversation as he grew up that revealed how she was uncertain whether he may be accepted into a school of magic, so he had guessed that this was her main reason to concentrate so much of her time in teaching him to brew potions.

The reason behind why he would have trouble being accepted into a school was unclear to him, but he was not without his theories. He knew he was very magical - that much was clear from the time he knocked over a stack of books while in Flourish and Blotts with his mother and then she was insulted and they were both thrown out by the manager. He made things only worse for her by being angry and causing it to hose down with rain inside the store. Vances potions struggled to stay afloat after that. Replacing all those damaged books had cost a fortune in galleons. She hadn't been too angry with him – she had just sighed and had refused to look at him properly for a few weeks, keeping her eyes adverted when she talked to him. He was used to this though. That was where he suspected his absent father came into the equation. 

As Christopher added six octopus suckers to the cauldron after mixing in the spider eggs he reflected on what he did know of his father. His mother had never told him much, it was clear even to the ten-year-old Christopher Black that it was a painful subject for her. He suspected, as he did not look very much like her that the reason she sometimes could not look at him was because he reminded her of his father. He had always been determined to overcome this failing though, and had endeavored to prove to her that he was as unlike his father as he could imagine. Not that he had the slightest idea of what his fathers' personality had been like. So Christopher often tried to win his mothers love with jokes and stories and pranks, as he could not imagine someone who could have ever hurt his mother having that sort of a playful personality. The reaction he sometimes got to this sort of behavior surprised him and he wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. She would often laugh at what he had done at first, and he thought he was succeeding in his quest for her affection. But then more often than not her mood would change and he would catch her crying silently in the stock room where she often spent her time sorting ingredients. The only other thing he knew about his father was that he was deeply disliked by the wizarding community – so much so that he himself was despised by other magical folk quite strongly. Once, while eating lunch in the Leaky Cauldron (a rare occurrence as his mother preferred not to leave the shop more than was strictly necessary), Christopher heard a witch at the table over from him commenting to her friend.

_'You would have thought the ministry would have had Blacks son put down – look at him, I'd bet more money than Bagman that he'll go the same way as his father.' _

He noticed that these sorts of cruel comments were becoming more and more common as he grew older, so it was lucky that he had no idea of how bad it would eventually become.

On the twenty eighth of July, Christopher celebrated his birthday, knowing he wouldn't be showered with presents, or particularly spoiled, although his mother did tend to cut him some slack when it came to working in the shop on that one day of the year. 

He was quite surprised when he entered the kitchen that morning to find his mother grinning more widely than she usually managed for him on his birthday.

There was a large brown owl perched on the back of his usual chair, and it had a letter clamped tightly in it's beak rather than tied to it's foot.

"It's addressed to you," said his mother, leaning forward in her chair to watch him take the letter.

Christopher took the letter and looked curiously at the green writing addressed to him on the envelope. He didn't recognise the writing, but there was certainly no mistaking whom it was for. Turning it over, he saw a red stamp with a crest on, and with no further ado, quickly ripped open the envelope.

Inside was a letter stating that he had been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

Christopher felt more elated than he ever had in his life. He was finally going to learn more about magic than just potions! He couldn't wait until he got his wand, and his first spell books, and met other children his age. 

His mothers face fell at the mention of the spell books they would have to buy – for they still weren't welcome back in Flourish and Blotts, and would have to send away for them instead - a more expensive alternative. But after breakfast, the two of them put on their robes, and stepped out into the early morning sunshine of Diagon alley to start buying his other supplies.

Stopping at Madam Malkins robes first, Emmeline fondled the school robes with red on them, which Christopher thought were by far the nicest.

"I had robes like these," commented Emmeline, "Because I was in Gryffindor house while at Hogwarts."

"Does that mean I'll be put in Gryffindor?" asked Christopher. He had never been told by her about the houses of Hogwarts.

"I hope so," said Emmeline. "I really hope so…" she added trailing off.

Christopher didn't have time to ask more about Gryffindor as Madam Malkin had approached them with a set of plain black robes – as the colour wasn't added on for new students until after the sorting ceremony.

By the time they exited the shop he wasn't in such a good mood. Madam Malkin had made him stand on a wobbly three-legged stool while she had taken his new robes up. He had been pricked in the legs an unusually large number of times and was sure he was bleeding.

The next stop was Ollivanders. Christopher was very much looking forward to finally getting his wand. It was a narrow shop that was squeezed up between two other shops, and looked like it had been there since the beginning of time. The letters over the door were peeling, and confirmed that the shop had been standing at least as far back as 382BC. 

When Christopher stepped into the shop closely followed by his mother, there was a faint tinkling of the bell and then all was hushed and the silence seemed heavy in the air. Thousands of dust laden wand boxes lay stacked up on rows of shelves built for that purpose, and stretched so far up that they were touching the high ceiling.

Out of the gloom emerged the most curious man Christopher had ever set eyes on. He was very old and made no sound as he moved towards them, stirring up not a single particle of dust. 

"Good morning," he said in what Christopher thought was a rather creepy soft voice. His eyes seemed to glow in the light from the window, and Christopher felt rather frightened, but tried not to show it. 

"Morning Mr Ollivander," greeted Emmeline immediately. "I've come to buy my son his first wand since he has been accepted into Hogwarts."

Mr Ollivanders eyes rotated to scan Christopher up and down. He didn't seem to like what he saw because they narrowed into a frown and his lips seemed to disappear as they turned down.

"Sirius Blacks son is he?" he asked stonily, although it didn't seem so much of a question as a statement.

"Er yes, b-but I've brought him up," said Emmeline stammering somewhat nervously.

"No wand from this shop will be purchased for Mr Black," said Mr Ollivander quite blandly to Emmeline.

There was a silence for a moment and Christopher stood looking in shock at Mr Ollivander who was glaring quite hard at his mother.

"C-come on dear," stammered Emmeline again taking Christopher by the upper arm and starting to tug him back towards the door.

"Wait a minute," said Christopher starting to feel quite angry and pulling against his mother. "Why are you refusing to sell me a wand? I haven't done anything wrong and I need a wand for Hogwarts. It says so in my letter."

"You are very much like your father, Mr Black," stated Mr Ollivander, addressing Christopher for the first time to his face. "Yes I am sorry to say that I sold him his first wand. Oak and Unicorn hair, 13 inches. I will not sell a wand to a child who is highly likely to go down the same dark path as his father and kill both muggles and wizards to further the dark arts."

Emmeline gave a small squeak of shock behind Christopher and then dragged him though the shop door before he had a chance to ask any further questions. Not that he felt able to now of course. His father was a dark wizard and had murdered both muggles and wizards? He had never imagined that his father was quite that bad. Christopher felt frozen inside. He had muggle friends at his primary school, and he couldn't think of anything worse than people like them coming to harm at the hands of a wizard. They wouldn't understand what was happening until it was too late. He had killed some wizards too… No wonder his mother had refused to tell him anything. 

But the worst feeling he got out of the experience was that Mr Ollivander had seemed to think that he was just like his father. Christopher thought that Mr Ollivander didn't seem the sort of man to misjudge a person from the careful way his spooky eyes had surveyed and taken every detail about him in.

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Please review – it really is good encouragement when writing :) 

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	4. An Icy Reception

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Chapter Three: An Icy Reception

Christophers mother applied to the ministry for a portkey to Bulgaria, and the following week saw them in Gregorovitch's wand shop. This shop was also was stacked high with wands on shelves, but was much less dusty. A young man was in charge of the shop and took Christophers measurements all while talking loudly in Bulgarian to himself. He directed Christopher to a particular shelf stacked high with 13-14 inch wands and indicated for him to try them out at his leisure. 

Three shelves up and halfway along, Christopher finally hit on a wand that sent out rich purple, gold and red sparks into the air when he waved it.

"Well that wasn't too painful," sighed his much-relieved mother as she counted out 9 galleons in sickles and knuts to the man behind the counter. 

Christopher was rather proud of his wand, but couldn't help noticing the similarities between it and his fathers wand. Not wanting to upset, he didn't mention this to his mother, but it gave him a nasty sense of foreboding. What if he was destined to become a dark wizard like his father?

His wand you see, was also made of Oak and Unicorn hair. It was in fact 13 and one quarter inches, so not entirely identical to his fathers. Christopher knew that the extra one quarter only meant that he was expected to grow a little taller than his father grew, so this wasn't much consolation to him.

During the next month his muggle primary school classes came to an end and he regretfully said goodbye to his friends for the last time. His mother promised him she would buy stamps so that he could stay in touch with his best friend Andrew. He was going to do this by first sending the letters by owl to her, and she would put the stamps on and post them on Charing Cross road where there was a box.

Christopher had made up a story for his muggle school friends about how he was being sent to a private school in Scotland. It wasn't really a lie, they just didn't know the details, that's all. 

When September the first arrived, Christopher had all his supplies packed neatly into his trunk, and was looking forward to his first day at Hogwarts. His mother had now told him quite a bit about the four houses of Hogwarts, and he very much wanted to be sorted into her old house, Gryffindor, and had told her so the day before.

It was nearly nine in the morning, and Christopher had been up since the crack of dawn. Emmeline had left to go into Diagon alley on a message just after eight, and he was starting to get nervous that she wouldn't be back in time to get him to the train station by eleven.

Just as he started to panic however, he heard the shop door open and his mother rushed inside. She was carrying a twittering black owl with small and scattered white spots in a cage.

"I thought you might like a pet," she said by way of explanation passing him the owl.

Christopher grinned widely, as this was the best present she had ever brought him, besides his wand, although that was a requirement more than a present.

"Thanks!" he gasped before taking his new owl and looking at it with admiration.

"I had wanted to get you a snowy owl, but this was the only decent owl within my price range – I hope it's reliable enough," she said looking at the small black owl worriedly.

It twittered it's approval of him, and Christopher grinned, wondering what he should call it, before hurrying to help his mother with the trunk with one hand, and his new owl in the other.

They took the London Underground to the station, and walked together through the barrier to platform nine and three quarters. Christophers breath was taken away when he saw more wizards his age than he had ever seen in one place before. He hurried with his mother to find a reasonably unpacked carriage on the train before hugging her goodbye, and letting her kiss him on the cheek, unembarrassed as she didn't usually display such affection for him. 

After finishing his goodbyes, Christopher settled down in the train compartment his mother had picked out for him, getting ready for a long journey ahead. There had been no empty compartments, but his mother had put him in one in which there was both a boy and a girl already, who both looked like first years. 

The mousy-haired boy sitting across from him first regarded him with curiosity, while the girls' reaction for some reason was puzzlement. Christopher tried not to stare at the two of them, but it was hard, as he was facing them both and realised that he would have to introduce himself so as not to appear rude. Just as he was about to look at the girl and put out his hand for a polite introduction as he had been taught, the boy sitting next to her opened his mouth.

"I'm Colin Creevey, and I only just found out that I'm a wizard! Isn't all this great? I haven't actually seen any real magic yet, but I did shoot some sparks out of my wand in Ollivanders, and I've taken ever so many photos already, and I've got loads of film so I'll be able to send them home to show my parents what I'm learning. My dads a milkman you know. So what's your name?" Colin said very fast, clutching one hand to his wand, and his other hand held what looked to be a very old muggle camera.

Christopher was momentarily stunned by this verbal avalanche, but soon pulled himself together and tentatively stretched out his hand.

"Christopher Black, pleased to meet you Colin. Both my parents are magical, but I live with my mother who owns a potions shop."

Colin shook his hand enthusiastically, and Christopher hoped very much that Colin, despite his initial over enthusiasm would soon become one of his first friends here. 

The red haired girl was still continuing to stare at him with something in her face bordering between fascination and mistrust.

Instead of an introduction, as he and the other boy had clearly anticipated, the first words out of her mouth were instead quite different.

"You want to be sorted into Slytherin don't you?"

"Do I?" replied Christopher, momentarily taken aback for the second time in only a few minutes.

"Yes. Ginny Weasley," she said as an afterthought, extending her hand with slight distaste.

Christopher raised his eyebrows at her, asking the unspoken question as to why she thought he would want to be in Slytherin, while taking her hand.

"Mum keeps a comprehensive family tree in a book at home. My family is distantly related to your family – the Black family, whom mother says are all Slytherins and dark wizards, and _always will be_. Slytherin are known for it's dark wizards, and your name is on the Black part of the family tree at the very bottom," she explained curtly, looking at him as if she expected him to jump up and hex her.

"My mother was a Gryffindor, and I've already decided that that's what I want to be," choked Christopher, hoping that Ginny Weasleys 'always will be' wasn't really an 'always will be'. There was no way he wanted to turn out to be a dark wizard like his father had.

Ginny smiled at him then, and seemed to visibly relax, while Colin quickly demanded to know what these things called Gryffindor and Slytherin were, and why they were important. Ginny gave by far the best explanations, and Christopher and her spent the rest of the train journey telling him as much as they could about their world. 

When the train finally drew to a standstill in the chill night air of Hogsmeade station, Christopher, Colin and Ginny clambered out gratefully, and headed down towards the boats that the gamekeeper Hagrid directed them towards. 

The three of them clambered into a boat, with Colin sitting up front with his camera at the ready. Then, as the group of boats set off across the lake with Hagrids one foremost, Colin took a number of pictures, giving off bright flashes of dazzling light.

"BLACK, stop that!" boomed Hagrid loudly, turning around suddenly in his boat, nearly causing it to upturn. "I knew yeh'd be trouble fer all you're worth. Yeh'll have 20 points taken from whatever house you're sorted into tonight for hexing other students." He turned back to face the looming castle, mumbling to himself loudly, while the students in the other boats started chattering amongst themselves worriedly.

Christopher sat in his boat in quiet shock, as they continued to move towards the castle. Had he just been accused of hexing someone because of the bright flashing lights? On the first day? And had points taken from him before he'd even been sorted? That had to be some sort of a dreadful record. Colin at least had stopped taking pictures now that looming cliffs where obscuring the castle.

"I'm sorry Christopher, I guess he thought my flash looked like a hex," squeaked Colin, looking upset.

"Just make sure you don't get put in the same house I'm put in," snapped a straight haired girl to him, as they clambered up the stairs after disembarking the boats.

Christopher just pretended he didn't hear her, and followed the large gamekeeper called Hagrid up the stairs and into the entrance hall.

They were met in the entrance hall by a tall strict looking woman who introduced herself as Professor McGonagall. She quickly explained that they would each be sorted into one of four houses, and to be on their best behaviour when they made their first appearance in front of the other students. Christopher was rather dismayed when her eyes settled on him, and she gave him a quick frown, as if she already had him down as a troublemaker, and wasn't at all too happy about his presence.

He didn't have much time to dwell on this though, as Professor McGonagall marched across the huge entrance hall to a door leading to a room beside the Great Hall and ushered them inside. Many of the students, including Christopher himself were reluctant to leave the entrance hall, as it was breathtaking in grandeur, and he had discovered to his pleasure, that when he looked upwards, he could see many stairways moving above, as far as he could see.

Professor McGonagall opened the side doorway going into the packed Great Hall, and lead them to stand in front of the students seated at the four tables. It was then that it occurred to Christopher that he may not get given a choice in what house he was going to be sorted into, and a cold feeling of dread settled in his stomach. It was a 'sorting' after all. That didn't imply that he had a choice, and he realised that he should have asked his mother exactly how the sorting took place so that he could have been prepared.

His feelings on the matter seemed to be confirmed when Professor McGonagall explained about the sorting hat and placed it on a wobbly three legged stool in the centre of the hall. Christopher realised that he didn't have much time to think when McGonagall started calling the names of the students in alphabetical order. 

"Abbot, Elizabeth." A short blond girl pushed herself out of the line, and hurried up to the stool, where Professor McGonagall placed the shabby old hat on her head. It took less than a second before a bellowing voice rose from it shouting, 'RAVENCLAW!'

Elizabeth took the hat off and set off towards the cheering Ravenclaw table, before McGonagal perused the list for the next name. Christopher hoped it wasn't him quite yet, as he had a nasty feeling about this hat. What if it was true what Ginny Weasley had said about all his family being put in Slytherin - house of the dark wizards? He didn't like to think what he would tell his mother, or whether she would ever forgive him.

"Bell, Brian"

Christopher breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't him yet, and watched as Brian got sorted into 'HUFFLEPUFF!'

"Black, Christopher," said Professor McGonagall in what Christopher felt was a distinctly more disapproving voice than she had used a moment before for Brian.

Christopher took a deep breath and walked forwards. He did not fail to notice how Professor McGonagalls lips had thinned, and the old bearded man sitting in the middle of the teachers table – who could only have been the headmaster, had leaned forwards in his chair slightly as he surveyed Christopher intently over his steepled fingers. Christopher tried to ignore all this however, and concentrated on the hat and the stool, sitting down and waiting for Professor McGonagall to lower it onto his hair.

'Ah yes what have we got here?' said the hat immediately in his ear when it was dropped onto his head, making Christopher jump.

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Please put me in Gryffindor, pleaded Christopher, assuming that the hat could hear his thoughts. 

'Interesting, very interesting, Gryffindor eh? I remember putting both your parents in Gryffindor and now I see how similar you are to them both, especially your father - I can also see how well you would do in – say – Slytherin?'

Christopher felt his heart racing and a sense of dread overcame him at the thought of being put into Slytherin, so he did the only thing he knew, and wished feverently that he would not be put in Slytherin.

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Anything but Slytherin

'Alright, alright,' the hat said to him, almost seeming to chuckle, 'Not really your thing is it?'

'GRYFFINDOR!'

Christopher breathed a sigh of relief and pulled the hat off his head, shoving it into Professor McGonagalls hands without a second thought as he rushed to make it to the Gryffindor table and start his life as one of them for the next 7 years.

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Please review! Thank you for all your nice reviews so far

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	5. More Downs than Ups

_Thanks to all my reviewers, Snowgurl54, mithaurdil4, Blume, Inchidiba, honeyduck, TheAlphieParadox, lala, prof. spider, A.V. Gallinger and Jade Augrey. _

_Oh and just as way of an explanation in my story - Christopher was known as Christopher Vance growing up until he was accepted to Hogwarts, but because Emmeline and Sirius were married his name was officially recorded as Christopher Black. There was nothing she could do to change the fact that people did know his real name - people who knew that she had been married to Sirius knew his real name, and people who worked at the ministry and had seen it on official documents - so they would talk about Christopher quite hurtfully. His name was written as Christopher Black down at Hogwarts from the moment he was born. Dumbledore was going to take him anyway even if he didn't trust him, but would insist on using his real name._

**Chapter Four: More Downs than Ups**

Christopher was the first Gryffindor of the year to seat himself at the table, but couldn't help noticing that several of the older students at his table were clapping only half heartily, or glaring down at him instead. At first he dismissed this as a result of them being tired and hungry, but then, when the second student was sorted into Gryffindor, loud claps and cheers broke out – much more evident than before. Christopher was worried.

Luckily the younger students who where sharing his end of the table didn't seem to notice, so eventually Christopher relaxed a bit and stopped wondering exactly what the older students knew about his family.

His friend from the train, Colin Creevey was soon sorted, and Christopher was pleased to welcome him into Gryffindor. Colin took a seat beside him and immediately started fiddling with his camera.

"I'm going to take a picture of Ginny being sorted," he said breathlessly. "I bet she'd like a photo to send home."

Christopher looked dubiously around him at the other students. No-one else seemed to be sporting cameras, not even muggle ones.

"Are you sure they won't mind?" he hissed at Colin, indicating with his head the row of teachers sitting along the top table.

"Don't worry, I know how to turn the flash off, it's bright enough in here anyway", reassured Colin, detaching the light from the camera.

No one seemed to notice Colin however, and 10 minutes later Ginny sat down at the table grinning from ear to ear like a Chelsea cat.

"Congratulations," chorused both Christopher and Colin, before several other Gryffindors introduced themselves to her, and her twin brothers clapped her on the back.

Christopher watched as Ginny was happily received by the other Gryffindors before she began to ask around worriedly where her brother Ron and his friend Harry Potter were. That was another thing – when Ginny had been telling Colin all about the wizarding world on the train ride, she had gone on a bit longer than necessary about the 'great' Harry Potter. The two of them seemed to have formed a fan club for him – Colin was almost as excited about the prospect of meeting a famous wizard as she clearly was. Christopher, however, didn't really feel the same building enthusiasm for the prospect of meeting Harry Potter. Maybe part of it was because he secretly felt that Ginny might harbour a bit of a crush for Harry, and her stories were just slightly exaggerated.

Christopher found he was almost grateful to be completely ignored for the rest of the evening, as everyone was happily discussing rumours that where starting to float around the hall as to the whereabouts of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Apparently someone had overheard Professor McGonagall talking about a flying car they had been sighted in. Ginny believed this flying car to actually exist – so many other students where hanging on to her every word as she described it. Christopher could see now that she would end up being rather popular if proven correct.

During the course of the next week, Christopher realized to his dismay that Hagrid and Professor McGonagall weren't the only ones who disliked him. The potions master Professor Snape, for one, was the worst of all his teachers, taking an instant dislike for him from the moment he walked into the classroom, and immediately deducting 30 points for apparently being too scruffy. It did not seem to make an ounce of difference that Christopher knew more about potions than many of his classmates. Professor Snape went out of his way to make him seem rather stupid and foolish. He also blamed the mistakes of anyone sitting near him on Christopher, and deducted an obscenely high amount of points. No-one wanted to sit by him – least they make a mistake and share some of their classmates wrath for doing so later. Christopher felt very upset about potions – he had reassured himself before he arrived at Hogwarts, that even if he turned out not to be any good at other magic, he would excel at potions. Now that was all ruined.

Professor Lockhart, who taught Defense against the Dark Arts had pulled him aside at the start of his first class and had sworn in front of him to 'rescue' him from the 'dark side' as he put it. It wasn't 'aside' enough though to stop half the class hearing as they filed out the classroom door to their next lesson.

"After all, we're all equals here and we can't have you turning into the next You-Know-Who can we?" he had said, laughing somewhat nervously.

"What's more," he continued. "When I've finished encouraging you to join the forces of good, I'll write a book – my next _brilliant_ best selling book in which you have a starring role - but only second to me, of course. It will be all about how I – your startlingly handsome Professor, persuaded _you_ to turn away from the pull of the Dark Magics," explained Professor Lockhart.

"But I'm not in league with any dark wizards," Christopher had protested at the time. Professor Lockhart refused to listen to him though, instead insisting that he was, as Professor McGonagall had confided in all the teachers – a danger to the school and its pupils, and should be watched closely.

The odd behavior shown towards him by his teachers, coupled with the downright nastiness of some of the older students towards him in the halls between classes, did not serve to help Christopher with his friendships with Colin and Ginny. Both Colin and Ginny had initially embraced his friendship – but then they gradually became more and more distant. Christopher knew that Ginny had initially completely rejected the idea that he may be a dark wizard in disguise – because when she had written home on her first night of school, a owl arrived for her the next day. It was from her mother, and told her that she would be best not to become close friends with 'that Black boy'. She had been rather outraged by this, and immediately told both Colin and him that she had no intention of letting someone else decide whom she would be friends with. Colin had nodded in agreement, and gone back to reading his wizard photography magazine, and Christopher had felt terribly relieved.

But Ginny didn't keep her word – even if it wasn't intentional on her part. Christopher figured that she had been scared by the constant rumors running rife that were spread by the older students, and the general mistrust of the teachers, and even people like the gamekeeper Hagrid – whom was friendly to all but Christopher.

It had been like a slap in the face when Christopher had approached Ginny one day, to ask if he could do his homework at the same table as her, and she had slammed the small black book she was writing in shut – and taken off at a run down the library isle. He knew his friendship with her was over, and Colins would soon follow.

He would be all alone.


End file.
